


If You Give Me A Sword

by TakaGang



Category: Bleach, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Fugaku Tries To Be A Good Parent, Gen, Itachi Demoted To Middle Child, Kurosaki Ichigo-centric, Mikoto Adores Her Weird Family Very Much, Protective Kurosaki Ichigo, Sasuke Looks Up To His Big Brothers When No One Else Does, The Uchiha Clan Deserved Better, Uchiha Itachi Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28422921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakaGang/pseuds/TakaGang
Summary: Before he was a soul reaper, Kurosaki Ichigo was an older brother. Big brothers are born first to protect the little ones that come after.AU. Ichigo is reborn into the Uchiha Clan
Relationships: Uchiha Fugaku/Uchiha Mikoto
Comments: 34
Kudos: 368





	1. An Orange Haired Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I thought the short reincarnation fic of Uryuu as Sasuke would get the Bleach ideas out of my system, but now I've ended up with this. Later chapters will be longer, but this is just the start.

Both mother and father are considerably confused when their first child is born with bright orange hair.

It’s not impossible for an Uchiha to have orange hair, but its not as common as the varying shades of black and brown their clan is known for. An outside marriage with strong genes might bring about some blondes and redheads. Uzumaki red can suddenly sneak in through different lines, but orange isn’t a color they often see. Both parents can’t even think of anyone they know personally with orange hair. They can think of white, pink, yellow, and purple, but not orange.

Pouring over their separate family trees and ancestral listings are more to appease their frazzled parents than anything. No one dares make accusations of infidelity. One simple denial from the mother is enough for the father and he expects even his own doubting mother to accept the answer as final. The mother can’t even wonder if the baby was switched since he was placed, orange fuss still wet on his head, right into her arms before the umbilical cord was even cut.

People can whisper and wonder, but both parents know the truth.

The child is their blood, and no one else’s. He is their baby, their firstborn child.

They have an Uchiha child with orange hair, and the only explanation seems to be an odd twist of fate. Maybe it’s the will of the gods that humans can never understand. It’s certainly odd, but odder things have happened. The heir to the Uchiha clan, son of the clan head, just has orange hair. It’s not a pig snout, or a new dojutsu, or a tailed beast sealed within him; other babies face harsher realities. Their child by all appearance is a normal baby boy. Hair aside, the baby is healthy. His eyes darken to a warm brown that makes his aunt smile. As he grows, he gains his mother’s chin. The shape of his eyes is more like his father’s.

Uchiha Mikoto rests her forehead against her baby’s and tells her husband what she wants to name the boy.

When Uchiha Fugaku asks why she decided on that name, she shrugs. It just came to her and she thinks it fits him. She has a feeling he’ll grow into it.

Uchiha Ichigo.


	2. A Father

Ichigo is an angry looking baby.

His eyebrows haven’t even fully grown in yet. They’re nothing more than light peach fuzz on his forehead, but it almost looks like he’s scowling. The smallest of crinkles bunches on his forehead, and his cries seem more like an outlet for rage than any true fussing. Mikoto’s brothers tease her. They say the clan heir himself must be furious the gods gave him such hair. Privately, Fugaku thinks little Ichigo, as strangely as it sounds, is trying to act tough. He’s watched the child’s lip wobble when he’s startled, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, before he tucks the lip right back into his mouth. Ichigo’s gaze appears to harden with resolve.

Even when he cries to let them know his needs, Fugaku notices the absence of tears. Ichigo isn’t a colicky baby like Akimomo’s youngest child. He eats fine, sleeps fine, and shows an alertness that’s promising. By all accounts he’s a good baby, but he’s odd too. Fugaku will hold him and realize the baby is looking intently over his shoulder. When he himself looks, there’s nothing there. He knows babies like certain colors, but the way Ichigo’s eyes follow and stare make it seem like he’s looking at _someone_.

Mikoto says Fugaku’s overthinking things. She thinks he’s just stressed.

Maybe Ichigo just has a lazy eye.

Fugaku hopes he doesn’t. He already endures the endless jokes about the boy’s hair. His mother might never forgive him if his eldest son ends up with vision issues of all things.

His older brother, Ryuichi, might even find the headship back in his hands.

Uchiha Torabana wouldn’t allow their family to look weak to the rest of the clan. Other families would try vying for headship if they learned Fugaku to offer a cross-eyed heir. She’d lie her way out of it if it killed her. Her dislike for Ryuichi’s wife could be shoved aside. Even her eldest son’s infertility wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things: not it if it meant their pride was at stake. His mother would demand another child from him the moment she found Ichigo lacking. She’s already made not too subtle inquiries about a second child, although she claims it’s simply practicality.

Fugaku kneels next to the blanket Mikoto laid the baby on and wiggles his fingers in front of Ichigo’s face. His little fist uncurls to grab at them, but it feels as if Fugaku is the one being placated. Ichigo pulls his father’s index finger into his gummy mouth like it’s a chore.

Fugaku gently coaxes his hand away and he laughs at the insulted look on Ichigo’s face.

“You’re a strange one, aren’t you? Always making faces. If you do it too much your face might get stuck like that you know.”

The spit bubble Ichigo pops at him feels intentional.

Fugaku wipes Ichigo’s face even as the baby, unable to lift his own head yet, still tries to wiggle away. Mikoto loves it. She thinks he’s got spirit, but Fugaku worries for the future. Defiant types don’t make the safest shinobi.

He rests his forehead against his son’s and activates his sharingan. Ichigo freezes like small prey caught under a hawk’s unyielding gaze, so Fugaku softly rubs his forehead against his son’s delicate skin. Ichigo is a lively child already, but touch seems to soothe him. Fugaku breathes in the scent of baby shampoo as his bangs fall into Ichigo’s reach. The baby’s grabbing hands are strangely forgiving when he takes a lock into his pudgy fist. Fugaku whispers a quick prayer in a language he hopes he will get to teach his boy. His son with hair like flames must be blessed to be warm and bright, born of fire like any Uchiha, it stayed burning within him rather than ease into ash.

“You won’t understand now, but I’ll tell you anyway. These eyes might look a little scary, but they’re ours to bear. The Uchiha have nothing to fear from it. Some thought us demons because of these eyes, but my grandmother told me these are the eyes of _dragons_. Dragons have hearts as big as any man, and with their eyes that can shift reality they hold memories within. Memories can be painful. They can ache so much you’ll want nothing more than to forget them, but the sharingan brands them into our minds.” He pauses for a moment before kissing the top of his son’s head. Fugaku memorizes every detail of Ichigo’s face before he lets the dojutsu fade. “The memories we keep can be precious too. Someday you might bear the same eyes, and it may hurt more than you think you can bear, but you won’t be alone. You’re an Uchiha, and there is an entire clan to stand beside you.”

Fugaku doesn’t notice his wife slide open the shoji screen. She leans against the doorway and watches amused as her husband cuddles their son. Ichigo always looks grumpy even when he’s been changed, feed, and held to his heart’s content. But with his waving hands outstretched to his father, he looks more relaxed than he usually does.

“What are you telling him?” She asks. “He can’t even see full shapes yet. I’m sure any teachings you have for him can wait till he can crawl.”

“He can’t understand me. That’s why I can talk about anything.” Fugaku shrugs and rubs at his neck. “It’s easier.”

Mikoto hides a chuckle behind her hand, but Fugaku’s ears still turn pink.

“I’m sure he’ll be a suitable heir later, but you should give him time for his teeth to grow in.”

“I know. I know. It’ll be fine. If he’s anything like you, I’m sure he’ll manage.” Fugaku lifts Ichigo up hoping he’ll giggle, but only gets a sneeze in return. Mikoto takes Ichigo into her own arms and tickles under his chin. She earns a small smile as Ichigo gets comfortable nuzzled in her arms.

Mikoto replies. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere. I’m not covering for you again. Aunt Rakshasa demanded a meeting tomorrow. Your clan head, so it’s your duty to go.”

“I’m as surprised as you are really. I figured my mother wouldn’t hand it over till her dying breath.”

“We have a child now. I suppose your mother thought the added responsibility would help you mature.”

They hadn’t expected to have a baby so early in their marriage. Of course, it was expected they provide an heir for the clan, but no one anticipated a baby so quickly. After all, their marriage was arranged. It was expected they’d have a grace period to get to know one another at the very least.

Ichigo had been a surprise for everyone.

Fugaku’s father, Hyusuke, alluded to the idea of a secret relationship. Perhaps Fugaku and Mikoto were seeing each other prior to their marriage. A few whispers went around about a romantic and hidden love affair thanks to Hyuske’s meddling, but they were quickly shut down. Both vehemently denied the accusations. Nara Shikaku and Uzumaki Kushina could both attest to it.

They’d both gone into their marriage reluctantly, but Fugaku can’t deny the warmth making a home in his chest as he watches Mikoto rock their son to sleep. Ichigo is more agreeable with her. He adores his mother.

Fugaku hopes Mikoto at least considers him a friend. She’s a hard person to read. He knows she still has doubts about him. Sometimes, she’ll visit his room, but more often than not they’ll keep to their separate bedrooms. Mikoto’s teasing can turn into sharp barbs at a moment’s notice, and he knows she doesn’t think he can manage the clan alone. He knows he can’t, but they might be able to together. The have a trust in on another, and Fugaku privately wishes for it to only grow over time.

Throwing up on her wedding kimono out of fear feels like a distant memory.

“Do you think he’ll have any problems with his hair? We could dye it.” Fugaku says.

“No, dyeing it would make it seem like we’re ashamed. Ichigo’s fine the way he is. He’s just more of a hothead than most. It turned his hair orange!” She laughs at her own joke. “You should’ve seen him the other day. When Naozumi tried introducing his baby Shisui to Ichigo, our boy raised the biggest fuss. Shisui’s teething, and he’s prone to biting. Ichigo didn’t like it one bit!”

Fugaku allows himself one more brush of his hand against Ichigo’s hair before he stands. He’s avoided the police station long enough. There’s always work needing to be done.

“I just hope he doesn’t get into any trouble when he’s older with that attitude.”

Mikoto just smiles. “Tough words from a crybaby.”

Fugaku snorts. His eldest child _would_ take after Mikoto.

Ichigo giggles makes both Fugaku and Mikoto look at him in surprise.

It almost feels like Fugaku is being laughed at.


	3. A Mother

Ichigo tries over and over to snatch the rice crackers off the table, even trying to grab one straight out of his mother’s mouth, but Mikoto is much faster. She’s not taking any risks. There won’t be any choking hazards on her watch. Ichigo only just started to crawl. It’s more of a drag than a crawl, but he’s trying his best. Her baby can’t handle solids yet, but it seems no one told him. Mikoto almost considered not bringing him to tea with her parents, but her mother begged for a visit from her youngest grandson. Mikoto had never been able to deny her.

Uchiha Otohime squished Ichigo’s cheeks as soon as they stepped onto the engawa. Mikoto wiped away the rouge and lipstick before Ichigo could raise a fuss, but he made his displeasure known with the strongest glare he could muster. It might prove to be formidable when he’s older, but for now it only brings a cute rosiness to his plushy cheeks. Mikoto’s father gives Ichigo good look over before returning to his tea set out at the low table, but Mikoto didn’t expect anything less from him.

“Your boy is a grouchy little guy, isn’t he? Naozumi’s boy is such a happy baby, you know. Is he developing on schedule? You’re not letting him such on his fingers too much are you? It’ll mess up his teeth, and an overbite would be unseemly.” Otohime fusses as Mikoto takes a seat next to her father. “Imagine having to present my grandson to the other ladies and he has an overbite! He’s a decent looking baby so far, but little Shiusi has the sweetest smile, and his curls are to die for!”

Her mother means well, but she tends to compare her children. They all have their weaknesses and strengths, but their weaknesses fall easier off Otohime’s tongue without her even realizing. Mikoto’s grown used to it. Otohime is a mother who likes to manage her children and doesn’t understand it when they don’t or can’t meet her expectations. She wants their family to always move up in the world, and Mikoto married as directed, just as Naozumi had. Naozumi still married better than her with a more promising firstborn. He was a good shinobi until he lost his legs, and his wife, a foreign noblewoman, adored him still no matter how much the violence frightened her.

Mikoto’s elder sister married for love, but she’s also a good housewife who has already bore many children. In her own way, Akimomo is perfect. Akimomo is cheerful where Mikoto is reserved. She’s lovely with a womanly figure, a round face everyone trusts, while Mikoto knows she herself has a bit of a cold face. Otohime worried throughout Mikoto’s entire pregnancy. She said Mikoto was too muscular, and her hips might not the best for childbearing.

Mastato gets by just by being the youngest and the favorite. He doesn’t even have to try.

Mikoto accepted the plans laid out for her like any good daughter, but she couldn’t let her mother know Fugaku was still cooking many of their dinners. She’d just never thought of learning it when she was active duty. Fugaku had watched Akimichi Choza cook with a reverent eye. Otohime would see it as a shame on the family if her daughter, the clan head’s spouse, couldn’t manage their home without _the clan head’s_ interference. Being the clan head’s favored shinobi meant little to her mother, not when she needed all her children to marry well. Torabana adored her for her prowess as a shinobi, but Otohime doesn’t see it that way.

Her mother claims improving one’s station is the goal in life everyone should have.

Mikoto replies. “Ichigo is already very strong willed. He’ll be walking before we know it. He’s a bit calmer than some, but he’s far from dull. He plays when Fugaku tries to engage him, and he smiles every now and again. Every child is different, but Ichigo is fine. He’s a happy and heathy boy.”

“Of course, of course.” Otohime waves her hand fan nonchalantly. “How is Fugaku? Is he treating you well? I know he’s not a very brutish man, but all the same a mother has her worries. _I know, I know_ he’s of a decent sort. He _must_ be as clan head after all. But you have a child now, and that’s most important. Have you given much thought to Ichigo’s future?”

She could’ve at least pretended to care about Mikoto’s words, but maybe it would’ve looked like she _was_ caring to anyone else but her children. They’re all used to seeing the hidden meanings beneath their mother’s fluff.

Mikoto sighs. “Future?”  
“Yes, darling it’s never too early to think on such matters. You never know what tomorrow will bring so it’s best to plan today. I know you and Fugaku are…shall we say a bit distant with one another, but no matter how little Ichigo turns out a spare is always a safe option for anyone of any status. A sibling is good for a child’s development too.”

Mikoto looks to her father for assistance, but it’s failed mission from the start. Uchiha Sengen is a solemn and reserved man. He’s content to sip his tea and let his wife do the talking.

“Mother, Fugaku and I are getting along. We’re friends!”

They are friends. Mikoto didn’t think they would be, but they are. He’s a bit of a loser, but he’s her loser.

Otohime whispers behind her fan, as if she’s even trying to be secretive. “You don’t have a lover hidden away, do you? You know Torabana won’t take too kindly to that.” She giggles. “Hyusuke is such a scoundrel! Oh, you should’ve heard the gossip that went around about that man. If Torabana knew one of her children’s wives was running around behind their backs imagine the fury! She already hates that girl who wed her eldest, you know.”

Mikoto bounces Ichigo, turning her attention to him hoping no one sees the insulted look that flashes across her face. “I do not! There are no hidden lovers, and I’d ask you not tell such tales. _You_ shouldn’t refer to the former clan head so casually. It doesn’t matter if her son is your son-in-law. She’s stricter than you about titles.”

A hand painted fan can’t hide Otohime’s blatantly amused smile.

“Fugaku and I are doing fine.” Mikoto says. “There aren’t any illicit affairs going on. Any matters regarding children or our marriage are between the two of us.”

As much as her father likes to keep his opinions to himself, he is observant. Nothing really gets past him. He notices the sharpness in his daughters’ tone, her pursed lips, the slight tap of her nails on the table.

Sengen clears his throat and turns to his wife. “You’re embarrassing her, Hime. Leave it be.” He gently places his cup down and nods in resolution.

It’s his final word on the matter.

He pats his grandson’s head, and Ichigo tries to bat the hand away.

He gives the last of his advice before returning his attention to his tea. “Remember what makes a clan. Remember that each family is only a small part. Hundreds look to you as Lady of the Uchiha clan to lead beside your husband.”

Otohime fans herself and pats Sengen’s hand before patting Mikoto’s. “Of course, how silly of me. You’re very right. Forgive me. Your mother often forgets you’re not a little girl anymore. You know I worry about you. It’s just a little fun. You’re all grown now, and there’s just Masato left now. Once he marries, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Masato claims he’ll never marry, so maybe her wish will come true. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“But honestly now, if you did theoretically have a lover, you’d give your mother a clue, wouldn’t you? I hope you’re taking precautions too if you are because any child of yours must be the clan head’s. We can’t afford a scandal. Women don’t have the same allowances as men. If Hyuusuke had left his boy to be with his mother no one would’ve known about the child. Torabana’s ire could’ve been avoided for him. You can’t hide it if the babe is born looking nothing your husband when his own mother is there. You know, I heard Elder Oishi had a child hidden away. _At his age_ , can you imagine it! The girl’s doing well in the academy I heard, but that old man was seeing a younger woman! If you were seeing an older man… _goodness._ What would people think? Think of your poor father won’t you and if you’re sneaking around with that Uzumaki girl I swear—”

Mikoto interrupts with a shriek _“Mother_!”

Ichigo starts to scream at the noise, but Mikoto doesn’t see any tears. It does give her an out to excuse herself without seeming rude. She smiles and makes promises as the twitch in her father’s brow grows stronger with each scream. Her mother is disappointed but understands. She thinks Ichigo is probably tired and implies Mikoto doesn’t have him on a good enough sleeping schedule.

Mikoto can’t get her sandals on fast enough.

As soon as they’re out the door, Ichigo falls quiet. He sucks on his fist and doesn’t protest when Mikoto tucks him firmly into his sling. She gives him a quick cuddle for being such a helpful child before walking towards home.

Meeting with her parents had been her only plan for the day. She’d visited many other families throughout the week, but no one expects much of her now. Ichigo’s still so young and needs her attention more than any internal clan squabbles. Fugaku won’t be home till later. She wants to train, but the knowledge could reach the wrong ears. Propping her baby on a blanket, as she does katas in a training field, sounds fine to Mikoto but is probably an immoral sin in the eyes of Otohime. Her great aunt might smile though.

Kushina’s busy.

She said she’d visit. Busy with missions before, she hadn’t met Ichigo yet. Kushina let her know in the market, rubbing her neck bashfully, that she had to cancel. A date with Namikaze Minato couldn’t be missed.

_Sneaking off with that Uzumaki, indeed._

Mikoto huffs, but there’s no use dwelling on the past.

There’s only the future.

Ichigo waves his damp fist at his mother. He babbles when she giggles in return.

“You silly boy. Grandma’s too much isn’t she? What do you say? Would you like a sibling? Grandma was pretty insistent on it. How does a little sister sound to you?” Mikoto tickles under his chin. “Not that it matters much, but I’m warming to the idea.”

Most people think of crying when they think of babies, but Ichigo isn’t much of a crier. He’s calmer than any Uchiha baby Mikoto’s ever seen. When Mikoto sees his lip wobble as tears build in shimmering eyes, she immediately takes him out of his sling. It’s rare to see him so upset.

“Oh, sweetie. What’s the matter? Mama’s here. You’re okay.”

She checks all the usual suspects. His diaper is clean. He ate not too long ago. He’s not gassy, too hot, too cold, or clammy.

Ichigo cries, and cries, and cries.

Rocking him doesn’t quiet his cries but it doesn’t increase them either, so Mikoto holds him close to her chest and sways softly. She kisses his forehead and shushes his teary wails.

“It’s okay. You can cry it out. Did something scare you? “Mama’s here, little dragon. You’ll be okay. It’s okay to be upset. It’ll pass.”

Mikoto rubs her face against his hair and lets him cry. She wipes his tears away the best she can.

Sometimes, that’s all she can do.

“Mama’s here.”


	4. A Brother

Kurosaki Ichigo was four years old when he became an older brother for the first time.: two perfect twin girls he swore to protect.

Now as Uchiha Ichigo, he is going to be a brother once again.

At two years of age, he hasn’t really seen much of the world outside his home, but there are probably worse places to find oneself reborn. He could’ve ended up a cockroach or some poor sap always in trouble. It’s been a decent life so far. Any chances of a truly _normal_ life shot out the window when he saw his parent’s eyes turn red, but maybe that’s normal here.

There are certainly some weird things in the soul society no one even blinks at.

He doesn’t remember how he died, but he honestly doesn’t think he wants to know. No sane person would. When asked, Urahara said souls don’t remember their past lives for good reason. It’s too much for a person to handle. Restarting with a blank slate makes things easier. It’s easier to live without remembering those left behind. An echo of deja vu was the most many people would ever get. 

Then again if something can go wrong it usually does. He always assumed Rukia would be dragging him straight to the Soul Society as soon as he kicked the bucket come hell or highwater, but nothing ever goes according to plan, especially when soul reapers are involved. Ichigo wouldn’t say he accepted it, but he’s gotten used to it.

A different body, a different world by all accounts, but Ichigo still feels like the same old Ichigo.

His friends, and family from Karakura and the Soul Society—hopefully, they’re doing alright.

Goat-face can’t be trusted with Yuzu and Karin, alone, but his friends won’t leave them to flounder. Chad, Orihime, Uryuu, Renji. Rukia…Ichigo misses them, so much it aches, but infancy gives a person nothing but time to think. He’s started to come to terms with his new life. Maybe one day he’ll make it back to the Seireitei and see everyone again, but having difficulties eating solid foods tenders to damper one’s confidence in their abilities.

His new parents are good people. He couldn’t reborn into worse families.

His new father is at least more sensible than his Kurosaki one. Uchiha Fugaku doesn’t have the same theatrical playfulness as Kurosaki Isshin, but it’s almost a relief. Ichigo wouldn’t know what to do with _two_ Goatfaces. The very thought of Fugaku throwing himself into a wailing exuberant frenzy almost makes him choke at dinner, much to his mother’s worry. Fugaku might put up a tough exterior, but Ichigo knows better. If anyone would know about trying to act cool and hard so no one bothers with their troubles it would be him.

Ichigo treasures his mother, both in the past and now. He keeps the memories of his old mother, Kurosaki Misaki, close to his heart, but his new mother is just as easy to love. Uchiha Mikoto tries her hardest to be gentle and kind even when it doesn’t come easily, and it’s all for his sake. Her brothers talk about her temper, her harsh demeanor, but it’s never aimed at Ichigo.

No matter her true mood, she always has a smile for her son.

Even when there’s been talk of another war. His father says it’s just idle gossip, but Ichigo knows better. He sees the troubled looks his family shares. He’s seen the post-mission injuries more and more of the clan return with. The tension is palatable in the air, and it’s only a matter of time before it all comes to a head.

He doesn’t want his parents to go, but in this world they both seem to be soldiers called shinobi. His new parents aren’t like his old ones, but they’re good people. Fugaku and Mikoto love him and he feels it in their every move. They always look at him like he’s their world.

Getting to be a big brother again fills him with both excitement and fear, but Ichigo tries to be well behaved for his father’s sake.

One of them needs to keep calm at least.

Fugaku’s knee bounces nervously sending his son up and down on his lap. No matter how much he pokes and prods his father he doesn’t take notice. Ichigo sighs and tries to get comfortable, keeping a steady hand clutched in his father’s shirt. He might not remember how Goatface acted when Karin and Yuzu were born, but he probably wasn’t the most composed father either.

Uchiha Masato sits down on the engawa next to them. He makes a silly face at Ichigo, and chuckles when he gets a glare in return.

It’s not that Ichigo doesn’t like his uncles, Uncle Ryuichi excluded, but sometimes he can’t just muster up the energy to be a giggly toddler.

Masato asks, “you doing, okay, Captain?”

“It’s just too early. The baby wasn’t expected till fall, and Ichigo wasn’t this early.” Fugaku’s knee bounces faster much to Ichigo’s displeasure. “I know Mikoto’s tough and she’s done this before but—I should be with her. I just don’t want to take any chances. _It’s too early_.”

Ichigo tugs on his father’s shirt. “Papa?”

He doesn’t know how much toddlers talk, and he doesn’t want to freak anyone out. He’s kept the talking to a minimum, but it never fails to make his parents smile when he calls them mama and papa.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Fugaku gingerly runs his fingers through Ichigo’s hair. “Mama and the baby will be fine.”

Masato pulls Ichigo into his lap indifferent to any resistance. “Go on then. No use stressing yourself out. I’ll watch the kid. Mother’s been pestering the midwife to now end last I heard from Momo. Maybe you being there will temper her a bit. It might help Mikoto feel better too.”

“Just be sure to keep an eye on him. He tends to wander.” Fugaku pats Ichigo’s head. “Don’t worry, Ichigo. I’ll be back soon and then you can see Mama and the baby.”

Masato gives him a mock salute and holds tightly to Ichigo’s waist when he tries to squirm away. “Your dad will be back soon, kid, just be patient. Once your mom gets out of there, you’ll have a baby brother or sister. Aren’t you excited?”

He is, but Ichigo’s not letting Masato know that. He gives Masato the best scowl he can muster and returns to sulking. It might look like pouting, but it isn’t. Kurosaki clinic hasn’t really seen that many births, most went to the hospital, but there’d always be an emergency or two. He knows labor takes a while, but it seems like his mother’s has gone on too long.

And his father’s doubts about the earliness aren’t unwarranted.

“Don’t worry about it, little buddy. Everything will be just fine.”

People tend to try and reassure children no matter the situation. Ichigo is only two, and he tries to remember that, but sometimes being talked down to rubs the wrong way when he certainly doesn’t _feel_ like a toddler.

They wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Masato takes him for lunch in the compound, and Ichigo ignores the worried whispers and gossip of his clan members. He’s handed extra dango and juice and tries not to think of it as pity gifts when Uruchi looks at him with dewy eyes. Masato grows steadily more concerned as time drags on and slaps harder than necessary at mosquitoes buzzing around them when golden hour strikes. He and any clan members that they run into all try to distract Ichigo. He gets dragged into games, coerced into a nap, and taken on walks, but eventually they return to sit on the engawa. They wait, and Ichigo pretends he doesn’t hear his uncle’s murmured praying.

One of the midwife’s assistants rushed out. She jumps into the grass and heads straight to where the elders are waiting. The girl runs so fast Masato doesn’t even get to open his mouth before she’s gone. Grandmother Torabana marches into the delivery room like a general overseeing the troops, but Grandmother Otohime, muffling sobs into a handkerchief, slips past her. Her eldest daughter, Akimomo, keeps her steady. The few ladies of the clan allowed to observe the birth are somber and silent shadows behind them. Masato jumps to his feet and takes his teary mother into his arms, No one notices Ichigo slip past the clustered family members to eavesdrop at the cracked door.

“You’re strong, Mikoto.” Torabana says. “Just take care and remember what’s important. You’ll move past this.”

Fugaku doesn’t seem to hear her. His voice is warm and full of joy, undeterred by his mother’s words. “A boy…another boy! We need the candles and our emblem, and I haven’t really thought of a name but—”

“ _Don’t be a fool_ ,” she snaps. “You are clan head now, not a mere boy, and you must think rationally. Look at the poor little thing. It’s too small, far too small. I wager the creature won’t make it through the night. Ask Miss Lou. She’s seen many births. Its lungs might not even be fully formed.”

Miss Lou doesn’t reply, but her silence says more.

“ _He_ , mother. He’s my son. He’ll be fine.”

“ _He_ might be.” Torabana’s voice is minutely softer, but only just. “But you should be prepared for the worst. Be mindful of your wife. You shouldn’t cause her more pain. It’ll be harder to say goodbye should you get so attached. You both must be practical about this.”

Fugaku replies. “I’m not giving up on him. He’ll be okay. I’ll do whatever I can.”

Ichigo strains his ears to listen. It takes a moment, but he manages to catch a quiet sound. It’s a soft cry, like a baby sheep, but it’s better than nothing. He sneaks into the room, crawling stealthily past his minders, and kneels next his mother.

Her hair is plastered to her head in sweat, and there’s a worrying paleness to her cheeks. The midwife, Miss Lou, and her assistants busy themselves with tidying up. One assistant, dabs Mikoto’s face with a cloth, while another softly wipes away the blood on her thighs.

“Ichigo!” She exclaims, “Sweetie, you shouldn’t be in here.”

“Masato was supposed to be watching him.” Fugaku explains. “He might have just gotten impatient.”

Ichigo peeks at the small cloth bundle in his father’s arms, but he can’t see the baby’s face. Fugaku asks. “Were you too excited, hm? Do you want to meet your little brother?”

Mikoto’s exhausted joy from seeing Ichigo fades into a closed off pinched look. Face carefully blank, she turns her head away from Fugaku and the baby under the guise of making herself more comfortable. Miss Lou warns her to be careful moving, but Mikoto doesn’t respond. She doesn’t even protest when Miss Lou tries to gingerly untangle her hair.

“Show some sensitively, boy!” Torabana scolds. “Spare yourself, your whole family, from unnecessary pain. Leave it all to the midwife. She’ll make sure he’s comfortable. Be reasonable! The boy’s skin is like paper, and you could hold him in the palm of your hand. I’ll be surprised if he makes it through the _night,_ let alone his naming ceremony.”

“I said _no_!” His voice raises but lowers quickly when the baby starts to whimper. “Mother, I understand your concern, but if you expect me to be clan head and lead the clan you should leave me to my choices.” He turns back to Ichigo with a soft smile reserved just for him. “It’s alright. Come here, then. You can see him.”

Ichigo kisses Mikoto’s cheek, even as a chorus of voices heed him to be gentle around her before he goes to his father. Fugaku tucks Ichigo close to his side, ruffling his hair, before introducing the baby cradled in the crook of his arm.

“This is your baby brother.”

They weren’t wrong.

The baby is indeed small, very small.

Ichigo had never seen such a small baby. Bald headed, wrinkly, and delicate, with a face that looks like it had been squished. People who say babies resemble their parents at birth must be lying. All babies when they’re born look strange, but his little brother especially. He looks more like a newborn puppy then a baby. 

“The baby is very fragile, so you must be careful. He could sick easily and might have some trouble eating, but we’ll take care of him.”

The midwife whispers to Torabana he probably won’t be able to latch, but Fugaku doesn’t pay it any mind. They’ll work through it somehow.

Fugaku guides Ichigo’s hand and lets him gently stroke the baby’s cheek.

“Tiny…”

“He is, but you’ll be a good big brother to him, won’t you.”

Ichigo nods.

He’s always been a protector. Once his sisters were born, all he wanted to do was keep them safe. He used to a crybaby and a momma’s boy, but he knew he had to try. Even with all the trouble it’s gotten him in, he’ll protect as many people as he can, not just those precious to him. But his family holds a special place in his heart.

They come first.

It doesn’t matter what anyone says he’ll protect his little brother.

“Mama, brother!”

Fugaku nods eagerly to him, but glances hesitantly at Mikoto. Torabana warns her not to look. _It’ll be easier that way. It’s only a matter of time._

“Do you want to see him?” He asks.

“I…I think it’s better if I don’t.”

Ichigo’s not going to just let her give up, even if it’s for naught, he knows his father will do whatever he can to help the little baby live. He’ll make it through the night.

He must.

“Mama, look! Mama!” He crawls to her and tugs on her sleeve, but Torabana lifts him up and sets back down beside Fugaku.

“Miko…please.”

She sighs, “No, okay, I said no.”

Fugaku nods solemnly and holds the baby closer to his face. His hand glows green over the baby’s small chest, covering it with his own broad hand.

“I won’t let him die. Just wait till his naming ceremony. It’ll be alright.”

“Brother.” Ichigo says.

Fugaku smiles. “Yes, this is your brother.”

For the week, his mother spends most of the time resting, but she keeps her distance from the baby. She doesn’t touch him more than necessary. She tries not to look at him for too long. Any glances she gives the baby are rushed and hesitant. Fugaku sleeps in the nursery even though most of the time he’s often awake. He begs his father to watch over the station for him. Most of the officers don’t know what to think. Their captain isn’t known for taking days off work.

Ichigo tries to be as helpful as he can. His father takes up near constant vigil at the baby’s crib. The times he sneaks off to the bathroom Ichigo takes up watch, even though Fugaku isn’t aware of it.

The baby might be small, but he makes his displeasure known with loud shrieking cries. Ichigo covers his ears to dampen the wailing. Fugaku pokes at his own ear and shrugs sympathetically. “It’s good for him to cry. He needs strength to breathe, and if he keeps getting stronger, he’ll eat better. We need him to grow big and strong, don’t we?”

Ichigo has no problems with that, but he doesn’t remember the twins being so loud.

His brother’s little hands can only grasp Ichigo’s pinky, but Ichigo thinks of it as holding his little brother’s hand anyway.

If he could manage to raise two girls in his old life, he can look after one sickly baby.

Fugaku begs the baby to live every night.

He presses his forehead against the baby’s, and Ichigo copies him to say goodnight.

“Make it through this night and every night after.”

Fugaku says those words every single night and does everything in his power to make it so. If the baby has trouble swallowing, Fugaku gently massages his throat and torso. The compound clinic had been reluctant to spare an oxygen tank on what they deemed a lost cause, but no one often denies the clan head’s wishes. The family prepares for the worst. Torabana is blunt, but practical. Otohime and Sengen comforted their daughter the best they can. At least there is Ichigo, they say, and they assure her there will be more children later. Mikoto’s siblings wear sad smiles, while Fugaku’s brother ignores the situation all together.

Every morning that passes proves the family wrong.

His little brother survives to the night of his naming day.

Fugaku doesn’t expect a grand celebration, but there’s no need for one. Ichigo is heir for the clan and going out wouldn’t be good for the baby’s lungs. He lights candles, as should have been done at his birth, and sets them beside the crib. Even though the baby can’t understand, he whispers stories of dragons and women with flames dancing at their skirts. Ichigo listens, dozing with his head on his father’s lap, while Fugaku regals them with his favorite tale. It’s about a phoenix who sent away a great winter with one sweep of his wings. He flew across the plains, hills, and valleys until every icicle melted and the ground caught aflame only for plentiful grass and crops to grow in its place.

Ichigo doesn’t know what to think of his mother’s attitude towards the baby. He figures, even with memories of an older boy nearly a man, he can’t grasp it without having children of his own. She loved the baby before he was born, but now it’s like she’s afraid to love him again.

When he catches her loitering at the door, Fugaku urges her into the nursery. She kneels next to Fugaku and runs a hand through Ichigo’s hair.

“Is the babe asleep?”

“No, little menace is fighting it, but he usually dozes after a story or song. I think he just likes the sound.” Fugaku pauses for a moment simply watching his wife before he asks. “Would you like to hold him?”

Mikoto stammers. “I…I don’t know.”

Ichigo moves to his mother’s side when his father goes to stand. He must take the unsure answer as an affirmative because he lifts the baby, gurgling and awake, and kisses his head. Fugaku bounces him for a bit before sitting next to his wife. Her hands shake as Fugaku eases the baby, into her arms. She steadies when Ichigo rests his head against her shoulder, but the gentle tremor doesn’t fully go away. 

“I don’t want him to die, “she whispers. “My mother said and yours and even the midwife… Fugaku, please.”

Fugaku rubs a finger softly along the baby’s cheek. Mikoto watches the movement with loving eyes, but her hold on the baby is still unsure. It’s like she’s waiting for the moment she can push him back into Fugaku’s arms.

Fugaku says, “I won’t let him. He’s strong. I know it. I’m not trying to hurt you but think of Ichigo. This is his little brother. He needs both of us. That baby in your arms is our boy, and I will do everything in my power to make sure he survives. I promise you. Name him. Give him a name at the very least. He’s made it this far. He’ll see his first birthday, and then the next, and the next.”

“Itachi.”

“Weasel?” Fugaku raises a brow. “That’s a strange name.”  
“He’s a sneaky one.” Mikoto chuckles and looks into Itachi’s eyes. Itachi yawns in response as drool sneaks away from the corner of his mouth. Mikoto gingerly wipes it away with the corner of her sleeve. “Our boy has to be cunning to evade even death.”

Fugaku’s wide grin doesn’t fit his face, but it never fails to make Ichigo smile.

“A good name then.”


End file.
